this one's for the grandkids

The other day Halbastram and I were discussing what makes a day one of our favorites, a day that we remember fondly and have decided that we're going to share with our grandchildren. I remarked that many people pick their weddings or giving birth or graduations as their favorite days, and while these are usually very good days and worthy of remembering, one of my favorite days was ironically pretty bad. But it was comically bad. And every time I look back on it, I laugh at how the events unfolded and regret that I didn't have anyone with me at the time to experience it with. Here it is, in as short a form as I can make it:

One random summer weekday when I was still in housewife mode, I decided, "today is nice and sunny and Halbastram left me a little cash. I think I'll take in a movie." So I shut off the air conditioner and opened the sliding glass window in the living room, leaving just the screen closed, and ventured out to the local movie theatre, which is only 3 minutes away by automobile. Rush Hour 3 had just come out, and as a fan of the previous two installments of the franchise, I figured I'd give it a chance, despite the fact that the critics hated it and even I had my doubts. But again, it was a gorgeous day outside and I was feeling extremely optimistic.

I go see the movie, which turns out to be quite awful and as I'm walking towards the front of the theatre to exit, I notice that it is raining quite hard outside. My first thought is, "well I'll just wait it out." My second thought is, "oh, shit! The window is still open at home!" So I run through the flooded parking lot to my low-sitting car and notice that the windows are all fogged up, from front to back. I sit with the defroster on full blast but with very minimal results. But I'm in a hurry and decide to just wipe down the windows and slowly peel out in the water-logged parking lot towards home.

When I arrive home, the rain has slowed down for the most part. But once I enter the building, I notice that the lights are out and the elevator isn't working. Power's out. So I have to climb the stairs to the unit and I have no idea how long the power had been out, since the power in and around the movie theater, street lights included, were still working. I reach my unit, which is sooooo freaking hot, and immediately walk over to the sliding glass window. And as I expected, the wind was blowing the rain sideways, which in turn blew the rain right into our living room. The immediate area around the window was soaked. And because it's carpet, all I can do is wait for it to dry.

So I sit in the dark, waiting until it's time to pick Halbastram up from the train station, so I can share my awful day with him.

And I attribute all of this to that awful, terrible movie I went to see. If I had just trusted my instincts, and Ebert, none of this would have happened. Now, I refuse to watch that movie ever again. It's a bad omen. It came on TBS yesterday and I quickly switched the tv to the first thing I could, which unfortunately was QVC. I've learned my lesson.

If 'The Godfather' couldn't even get it right on the third round, why did I think a crappy buddy-cop comedy could?

a week of breakdowns

A new season, a new set of problems.

This week, I started my lovely new job. The job itself is fine, but the time of day that it takes place isn't. Because of how early we have to be there to prep the vehicles, I don't have enough time to sit and enjoy a big 'ol cup of coffee. I'm already waking up super early and with barely enough time to even microwave a decent breakfast. And not all the vehicles have cup holders, so I can't count on being able to Thermos it. So I go without during the morning time.

Herein lies the problem: my blood is most likely two-thirds caffiene. If I skip a day, I get massive headaches/migraines. And for two days this week, my body just couldn't hold out until after the morning shift. It would start to turn on me by 8am. By the time the midday break would arrive, I would be so far gone all I could see were spots and dancing coffee cups floating around my head. Luckily for the first few days I was just an observer/rider so I didn't have to put any additional stress on this noggin. I'm wondering if perhaps I'll just have to hook up a coffee-filled IV to take along with me. I'm still working out the logistics...

My next dilemma has been a sick, stuffy, raspy Halbastram. The changing of the season has not been kind to him and he's a sore throat, whispering mess. He first started showing signs of illness Monday, so I offered to make him soup while I'll just dine at the golden arches. He whined a whole bunch, so I agreed to bring him back some chicken nuggets and a soda. Again, here's my cupholder dilemma: my car doesn't have any. And I can't drive while holding a drink. It's a talent I don't possess. Halbastram's solution: take a boot and set the drink in the boot. It'll act as a cup holder since it's tall. Alrighty. Of course, this can't go as planned. Coming to a hard stop at a red light, his soda decided that my car was thirsty and unloaded itself all over my passenger floor. I was FURIOUS. I came home, threw the bag of food on the counter, mumbled something about the soda, went back down to get the wet car mat, came back up, threw the car mat on the kitchen floor, mumbled some more about how Mondays suck, took my cheeseburger, headed to the bedroom and watched Pawn Stars while I ate my burger.

Luckily, Halbastram cleaned up the mess for me.

After deciding not to be angry anymore, I mellowed out and started to enjoy the rest of my week...until the car stopped working. Halbastram tried to fix it, but after about an hour or so he gave up and we had to walk home, which wasn't so bad because we were only 10 mins. away. We called the local policia and let them know the situation so they wouldn't ticket/tow our car. It would be another day before we could get a tow truck. And, as luck would have it, as the tow man is putting the car on his truck, it starts to rain...heavily. Which isn't good for Halbastram. So I told him to just stay in bed this weekend.

Mi madre is coming to visit so that I can use her car to run errands for the day, which is very helpful.

Thanks Mom!

Here's hoping that the luck of the Irish will be on my side this coming week. I don't think I can handle anymore breakdowns, car or otherwise. If only I could fix not being able to sleep in late on the weekends. Why am I up at 5:30am on a Saturday?!? *shakes a fist at Mother Nature and Father Time*

More work, less daytime tv

It's a weird feeling, walking into the CDL DMV (that's the DMV for gnarly truckers...and bus drivers) and being surrounded by worn blue jeans, weathered t-shirts, worker jackets and trucker hats, while I wear my North Face boots with the faux fur top lining, favorite Joe's trouser jeans, H&M bomber jacket with my collection of Jimmy Eat World buttons, Kylie sunglasses, lip gloss a-popping, and my favorite blue crocheted beanie cap. I felt a little overdressed and slightly underaged. The last part because the other women who worked in the place were all tshirts/flannel shirts/tattered jeans and I-don't-have-time-to-fuss-with-my hair. I felt like perhaps I didn't take it as seriously as they did, that I didn't quite understand yet that in this male-dominated environment you gotta come off tough or they'll eat you alive.

Or maybe I was just thinking too much about it since it was 9am and the DMV always leads to boredom, which in turn leads to random thoughts.

At any rate, I have my beautiful license in hand, the big bold CDL planted firmly across the top and I feel badass. It took me two months of training and two tries at the final test to get it right, and I made it happen. My driving might still be a little questionable (ask the many curbs I slam while making a right-hand turn) but it's tolerable.

To celebrate my passing of the final test, Halbastram took me out to Hooters for dinner. This is our usual celebratory destination. We sort of have a unique relationship with the manager, which hasn't quite reached the "free food" level yet. But, one step at a time. Our relationship with this man is simply based on the fact that he remembers us, even if we don't stop by for over a month. We're a very odd pair, so we're easily recognized at most places that we frequent, and even places that we don't. Once we were in the grocery store and this guy goes, "hey! you guys haven't been by the restaurant in a while." I was so confused and I had absolutely no idea who this guy was. But Halbastram remembered him. He worked at the Taco Bell up the road which, yes, we had stopped going to for a while since I was trying out the "domestic" side of our relationship. I would soon find out later that 80% of the staff at said Taco Bell knew who we were. Now, I don't want to get into a whole thing about "perhaps you two were going there way too much" so I'm just going to move on, since I was off-topic anyway...

So now I will be officially employed next week. No more Maury paternity tests. No more Tyra advice for teens. I'll have to actually be somewhere of importance at 2 in the afternoon. That'll be an adjustment. I had just started to cement my afternoons to my liking. But now that I'm making money, I can finally take that trip to Cali I've been dreaming of...or, I can get a bad-ass iPad. Or I can pay the electricity bill. Ugh, responsibility is a drag sometimes...

This Married Life

Yes, I've been watching Tyra again. So of course this blog will be about the episode I watched yesterday.

Tyra featured a panel of women on two opposing sides of the marriage debate. On one side were the pro-single women, the women who choose career and freedom and feel that a man and kids would only hinder their grand plans. On the other side were the pro-marriage ladies, the women who have decided that being married and having a family was their career of choice.

Here's my short-and-sweet opinion on both arguments:

Not everyone is marriage material. To those women who feel that they absolutely need a husband and family to feel complete and that works out for them, kudos. If it makes you happy, do it. To the women who feel that they simply can't commit to the idea of marriage and a family and don't want to make a mistake by jumping into it because of social pressure, kudos to you too. I think it's fabulous that you recognize this ahead of time instead of jumping into it and being miserable.

Why did I marry Halbastram? Because I was very much interested in having a longer, much more complicated last name. Also because he asked. I never measured commitment by wedding rings, considering the man moved out of his apartment to be closer to me while I was in school after only one year of dating. That there speaks volumes. If he'd asked me to just be his common-law wife I would've been happy. A lot of people ask me how married life is and I never really give the answer they're looking for. Since we lived together and dated for four years before getting married, I just tell people, "it's like when we were dating, but with a combined checking account." The ring/ceremony/changing of the name wasn't this huge life-altering event some people were expecting. We still love each other very much. We still argue about the small stuff. But in a way, it forces us to work out the kinks because Divorce Court, while entertaining, can be costly.

And this stuff about not being able to pursue a career with a family? It's all about balance. Well, I really wouldn't know as I have neither, but I've heard things, and these things tell me it's possible.

In a nutshell, I'm happy I married the guy. He takes care of me when he remembers to, and vice versa. He kills the spiders; I wash the linens (and his socks and undies). The cable man breaks the tv; Halbie buys a new one in two days. Someone smashes our car; I deal with the shop week after week until it's fixed. I fail a class in college; he takes me out for ice cream. He loses his job; I mix him a Jameson Ginger Ale and listen to him vent. We just mesh. This works for us.

The only thing that could make the marriage better is if he let's me have Jake Gyllenhall as my "freebie". We're still working on that...

Scene-It Party at the Halbastrams!

Usually when my mother comes to visit, we sit around, watch a little America's Most Wanted, maybe even take in a blaxploitation film (loooove Cleopatra Jones) and joke around, telling old jokes and stories that never go out of style. Recently though we've been on a party game kick, following the success of our Simpsons Scene-It tourney (that, of course, I won). The first time we tried to incorporate gaming into her visits, we played Clue, The Simpsons version. Of the four players, Halbastram was the only one familiar with the game, so it took a little bit for my mother, my sister and I to figure it out. Unfortunately, when we were finally figuring it out, Halbastram, in his lovely dyslexic glory, got confused while shouting out an anwser and ruined the game as I was poised to win (I can't remember specifically how this occurred, but I know that it's something we continue to tease him about, so it must've been funny at the time).

This weekend, my mother brought over Scene-It: Tv Edition to play. She figured that it would be a better, more neutral game for us all to enjoy, since not everyone is necessarily a Simpsons fan (which also ruled out my Seinfeld Scene-It...she knows I would have smoked everyone...smoked them, I say!). We set up the board and I mix everyone some Jameson Ginger Ales, and a plain ginger ale for the teenager, and start the game. I already know it's going to be a good eve when the first question turns out to be a Seinfeld one. From that point on I owned the night. But it was a bittersweet feeling. Most of the tv shows I know I've never watched as an adult, but I recognized them. Perhaps I was remembering them from watching so much tv as a kid? Either way, I'm apparently full of way too much pop culture knowledge and it kind of frightens me. My poor sister, she didn't fare well at all. Many of the classic shows from the 60's and 70's were absolutely foreign to her. Growing up, her tv consisted of Disney, Nick and now MTV. So Barney Miller, Maude and Dragnet were huge question marks to her.

My mother, being the oldest, should've been the obvious front-runner for getting the most answers correct. But she stalled on most of the 90's tv shows. That's where I come in. Friends, Dawson's Creek, Wings, Charmed, etc. That's my area of expertise.

And Halbastram? He couldn't read the questions fast enough and by the time he finally finished a sentence, we had already loudly shouted out our answers. But at least he didn't come in last. So kudos to my Halbie.

It's funny, Scene-It: Tv Edition I excel at; Jeopardy, not so much. Maybe I should put down the remote and pick up an encyclopedia...